


for victory in life

by remy (iamremy)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s15e03 The Rupture, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Episode: s15e03 The Rupture, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 02:44:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21172124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamremy/pseuds/remy
Summary: Dean returns to Sam's room after his fight with Castiel.





	for victory in life

**Author's Note:**

> oh god i'm still so fuckign SAD about this episode ;-; but yes, more sam and dean moments, please and thank you :D

Dean is not completely drunk when he returns to Sam’s room around two hours later. Closer to it than he should be, but not there yet, and he thinks he should be given props for that. It’s been a _get-drunk-off-your-ass­ _kind of day.

“Hey,” he whispers to Sam, putting one knee up on the bed so he can nudge Sam in the back with it.

“What?” Sam asks, voice hoarse, without turning.

“Move,” Dean tells him.

Sam shifts forward, and Dean gets into bed next to him. Falls in gracelessly, to be accurate, and lands sprawled on his back, breath whooshing out of him when he makes contact with Sam’s hard mattress.

“What?” Sam asks again.

“Why is your bed so hard?” Dean asks instead of answering him. He wouldn’t be surprised to one day find out Sam’s dragged a literal bed of nails in here to sleep on.

Sam just makes a sleepy sound and tugs at the covers. Getting the message, Dean lifts his back so that Sam can pull the covers out from under him, and then settles again. “How you doin’?” he asks quietly, a moment later.

“Don’ wanna talk about it,” Sam answers a second later.

Dean accepts that. “Okay.” Sam will talk when he’s ready. Whether that’s in a few minutes, or hours, or days – Dean will be here.

“You?” Sam asks.

“Me?”

“Mm-hmm. You okay?”

Dean shrugs. The movement makes the pillow under his head move a little, and Sam makes a sound of protest when his pillow moves too. “You move too much,” he mumbles.

“Do not,” Dean retorts, but accidentally kicks Sam when he tries to get comfortable. “Sorry.”

Sam just sighs. “You didn’t answer.”

“I’m okay, Sam,” Dean tells him, lying through his teeth.

Sam sighs again.

“Okay, fine. I’m drunk.”

“I noticed,” answers Sam, turning on his back so he can glare at Dean.

“Been that kinda day,” Dean says, a little defensively, and all the fight goes out of Sam.

“Yeah,” he says, and shifts closer to Dean. “Yeah, it has.”

Dean raises his arm, stretches it across the pillow. “C’mere.”

Sam moves, shuffling into the half-embrace; he pillows his head on Dean’s shoulder and throws his arm across Dean’s chest, fingers tangling with the fabric of Dean’s shirt. “Your breath stinks,” he mutters, but considering he's already wrapped around Dean it clearly doesn’t bother him that much.

Dean lets his fingers fall into Sam’s hair. “Cass left,” he says quietly, instead of answering Sam.

Sam goes still. “What?”

“He and I had a fight,” Dean tells him, gently sifting through Sam’s hair. “It, uh… it didn’t end pretty.”

“Dean,” says Sam, sounding tired. “What did you say?”

“Nothing I didn’t mean,” Dean replies.

“That’s not an answer,” Sam points out. “Must’ve been brutal if it made him leave, Dean.”

Dean exhales slowly through his nose. “He’ll be back, Sam,” he says, not sure if he’s trying to convince Sam more, or himself. “He always is.”

“Depends on what you said to him,” Sam says. He sounds simultaneously sad, and too tired to be sad. Dean would wonder how, but he’s drunk right now and his brain is not a fan of deep thought at the moment.

“Can we talk about this in the morning?” he asks. “Or you know. Later. Just not now.”

For a few seconds it looks like Sam’s going to argue, but then he just sighs, and mutters, “Fine.”

“Thanks,” Dean says quietly after a few moments. He hasn’t really processed the fight in his head, and isn’t sure what he can tell Sam without sorting it out in his head first. Lots of mixed feelings there; better to get it all straight in his own head before dumping it on Sam.

Sam makes a sound that Dean takes as “you’re welcome,” and then settles against Dean’s side. A few minutes pass in silence. Just when Dean thinks Sam’s fallen asleep, though, he says, “It just… doesn’t feel like a win, you know?”

God, he sounds so _sad_.

“I know what you mean,” Dean says. “Feels like it should be… I don’t know. Bigger.”

“Not just that,” Sam says. “I just can’t stop thinking… it can’t be over, you know? Can it? Just like that?”

“I hope so, but…” Dean trails off.

“Doesn’t feel that way,” Sam finishes.

“Yeah,” says Dean. “Feels like there’s more. Don’t know what, but… we’re not done yet.”

A moment passes, and then Sam says, voice brittle, “God, Dean, I’m so… I’m so _tired_. Not tired like I need to sleep. Just… tired.”

“I know,” Dean says quietly, hands stilling Sam’s hair. He leans in and kisses his forehead. “I know, Sammy.”

“I just want it to be over.”

“Me too,” Dean replies, and laces the fingers of his free hand through Sam’s. “And it will be. We just gotta get through it. We’re gonna come out on the other end, Sammy, just you see. And then we’ll be free, like you said.”

“Yeah.” Sam doesn’t sound that convinced, but Dean figures he can keep trying. There’s no point to any of it if Sam doesn’t believe in fighting on. He’s what keeps Dean going; Dean _needs_ him to want to fight.

“Look,” he says. “Whatever happens – me and you? We’ll be okay.”

“Yeah?” And Sam sounds hopeful, and it makes Dean’s heart fill, because even after everything the kid has got so much faith in what Dean says and believes. He’ll blindly accept whatever reassurance Dean gives him, just because it came from the big brother he’s looked up to his whole life, and shit, but that makes Dean feel – at the risk of being a naïve fool – like despite everything, the world isn’t lost after all.

“Promise,” says Dean, and that makes Sam smile. It’s small, and tired, and there are no dimples, but Dean will take whatever win he can get right now.

He just hopes time won’t make a liar out of him, in the end.

**Author's Note:**

> feedback would be lovely! and you can find me on tumblr @[thelegendofwinchester](http://chesterbennington.co.vu/) :)
> 
> love,  
remy


End file.
